


So Beautiful

by coveredbyroses



Series: 2019 SPN Kink Bingo [5]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Cunnilingus, F/M, Smut, Tumblr: spnkinkbingo, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-14
Updated: 2019-04-14
Packaged: 2020-01-13 10:15:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,461
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18466894
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coveredbyroses/pseuds/coveredbyroses
Summary: The world is dying. There’s no time for love or romance, not in this Hell, but the fire won’t weaken, and you don’t know how to extinguish it.





	So Beautiful

You kick at the dirt outside the cabin, hands shoved into the pockets of your jeans. The sky’s a gun metal gray, looks about as promising as mankind’s future. A cool breeze whips at your hair, sends a chunk of it tickling across the bridge of your nose.

There’s no real reason for you to be here. You have more pressing matters to tend to at the moment, but there’s some kind of pull; a moth to the last dying flame.

The chorus of high-pitched giggles grates against your ears, makes you tense, and you can’t help but stare as a line of women glide down the cabin’s steps; all wild-haired and flushed chest to cheeks.

You press your knuckles against your mouth like that’ll help you make your decision, like it’ll snuff out the ache in your chest. A jeep drives by, dirt clouding up in its wake, and you watch as it settles back to the ground. You take a heavy breath, decide that it’s all going to shit anyway, so you may as well go for it.

The wooden steps creak under your boots, and you can already smell the weed before you get to the door, can almost  _taste_  it. You give the door three solid raps before he’s beckoning you inside. 

You roll your eyes at the beads, swat them away as you as you approach. Cas is sitting on the rug, bare feet crossed at the ankles, joint pinched between his thumb and index finger. He smiles at your arrival, extends his arm, offering.

“No thanks,” you wave. “I’m good.” 

“Whiskey then?” His eyes are drug-glazed, smile lazy, but that you  _will_  take him up on.

“Won’t say no.” 

He nods, set the joint in the ashtray before smoothly rising to his feet. You watch him as walks to the wooden table on the far side of the room, watch the flow of his shirt billow behind him as he moves.

You can’t even see a hint of the Angel you once knew anymore, not since his remaining Grace had fizzled out. He’s fun now, goofy even - though maybe that has something to do with the fact that he’s under the influence 24/7. 

But there’s just something so pure and genuine about him now; no longer an Angel, but a man. You’d been angry, actually angry when the feelings first developed, when you started looking at him differently, when that warm, fluttery thing started happening in your belly every time he looked at you. The world is  _dying_. There’s no time for love or romance, not in this Hell, but the fire won’t weaken, and you don’t know how to extinguish it.He’s got a glass in each hand as he makes his way back to the rug, and you watch as the amber liquid sloshes up against the sides as you take the glass from him, let your fingers linger a little too long on his. Cas settles back on the rug, tucks his feet under his legs as he raises the drink to his full lips. He swallows, then squints. “Something’s bothering you.”

You breathe out a light chuckle, shake your head as your thumb traces the lip of your glass. He may be human now, but there are still some dregs of Angelic intuition left behind. “I dunno. Just…everything, I guess.”

Cas purses his lips then nods. “Things are…bleak, for sure. The trick is to find the beauty in it.”

Your head tilts as you take a burning swallow. “Beauty?” you laugh, sardonic. “Where?”

The former Angel doesn’t say anything for a moment, just gives you a soft smile. “You, for example.”

You nearly spit your drink back into your glass. 

“Me? You  _are_  high…”

He sets his drink down, the glass bottom making a low clunk against the wood. You lean back a little in surprise because he’s  _crawling_  toward you.

“Cas? What’re you-”

He gets on his ass just in front of you, plants his feet on either side of your hips so that your criss-crossed legs are boxed in between his. You can’t help but flinch when he lightly traces your jawline with an index finger, baby blue eyes fixed on your lips. His touch is feather-light; sensual, and it makes you shiver.

Time slows when he presses his warm lips to yours, hand moving to cup the back of your head. One slick swipe of his tongue has your mouth cracking open, and you moan into him, fingers scrunching up the cotton at his shoulders. He licks in deep, lips so soft and plump as they suck at yours.

You’re dizzy by the time he breaks away, can still taste him as he tucks your hair behind your ear. He’s just smiling at you, and you know he’s just eating up the dazed look on your face. 

You’ve barely had time to catch your breath when he’s leaning forward, shoulders pushing against yours, coaxing you to your back. You let yourself ease into the rug, can feel the cracks of the wood pressing into you through the wool.

His eyes are such a clear blue as they stare into you, they’re softer; so unlike the days they used burn with contained Heavenly Grace. He ducks down to peck a quick kiss against your lips again, then your chin, then dip of your throat. You hands bury themselves in his mop of raven hair as he moves south still, kisses the valley between your breasts right through your shirt, then he’s mouthing his was down your tummy, tongue even flicks into the dip of your belly button, and then he’s fucking  _biting_  the waistband of your jeans. He gives them a tug that prompts you to lift to your elbows, where you find his eyes flicking up to you.

Your breath is trapped somewhere in your chest at his ravenous gaze, veins burning hot. He lifts up, untangles your still crossed legs so that he can knee his way between them, fingertips dropping back to your jeans to quickly unfasten, and then you’re lifting your hips so he can shimmy the denim over your hips and down your thighs. 

Laced up boots keep your jeans and panties bunches around your ankles, but Cas doesn’t seem to have the time or the care to may any mind, just pushes your knees apart, and fucking  _dives_ in-

The run of his tongue is wide, warm, and wet, has your hips stuttering at the sudden, slick pleasure of it. You don’t even know what to do with your hands, so you squeeze at your own tits, thumbs flicking over the nipples through two layers of cotton. He tastes you with slow, wet drags, and it feels so fucking intense yet not strong  _enough_ , like something’s missing-

He gets his mouth up to your clit, sets his lips around the nub while a finger swirls at your entrance, testing and feeling. His tongue presses firmly against your clit while he works that finger inside, and your breaths become thready as heat bursts under your cheeks. Another finger is nudging against you now, and you feel his tongue slick down against it to ease it inside.

You’re wet, so fucking wet that you can  _hear_  it when he starts to pump his fingers, and shit - he’s  _slurping_  up the wetness that sluices out over his digits. You lurch up when he curls just right, feel that zing of pleasure as he starts to bump into that spot-

Sweat starts to darken your shirt, just under the line of your bra, and you can feel the material clinging the slick dip of your spin as you burn hotter and hotter. Your hands work their way back through his hair, your eyes flicking back into your skull as he licks, pumps, and twists; fingers so deep and quickening their pace.

You’re making breathy, desperate, choked little sounds, knees lifting, and how the hell is he so  _good_  at this? He stills for a beat, lowers his face so that he can work his goddamned  _tongue_ into your heat, along with two thick,  _plunging_  fingers, and  _shit_  - he gets a thumb pressed to your clit, starts rubbing these exquisite little circles as he fucks in faster and harder-

You come with a squeaking sob, thighs trembling, boxing his head as you jerk against his face, and he’s fucking swallowing, swallowing everything down.

You’re still gasping when he raises up, lips slick, his own face flushed, and helps you back to your ass, presses his wet mouth against yours so you can taste yourself. 

“So beautiful,” he says after he’s pulled away, and you think yeah, maybe there is some beauty in a damned world.


End file.
